


Dark Kiss

by KaedeRavensdale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Code: white, M/M, Vampire Tom, Victorian era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9468215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaedeRavensdale/pseuds/KaedeRavensdale
Summary: Young nobleman and Heir to the Potter family name, Harry simply couldn't help the crush he'd long been nursing for Baron Tom Riddle. He should have listened to his parents' warnings.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this up in like twenty minutes and it's really late right now so I'll edit it later. sorry for spelling errors that may be there.

Cheeks burning, Harry quickly looked away from the enticing charcoal eyes which had met directly with his from across the room. Suddenly feeling very hot under the collar, he fiddled with the wrist-line of the gloves on his hands. Why did he have to be impossibly smitten with another man? Why did he have to look at him every other second? Why did he have to keep getting _caught_? Hell, why did he have to be the sole Heir to the Potter fortune and name; the only thing which had led him to be at this party to begin with!

Fidgeting with discomfort, he cast around desperately for anyone to speak with or anything to use as a distraction but before he could find any such thing a large cold hand closed around his thin wrist in a gentle grip causing him to whip around with a strangled sound of surprise. God keep him, of _course_ it was the host of the gathering and the source of his rampant crush.

“You’re Young Lord Potter, are you not?” The Baron was a tall and very handsome man with aristocratic features and sharp cheekbones who all but bled authority from every pore. His hair was thick and wavy and his pale skin-almost blue in tint-made the bruise-like circles under his dark, hooded eyes stand out even more.

Harry stared at him, momentarily struck dumb by the fact that his crush actually _knew who he was_ before managing a shaky “Yeah. Yeah, I am. You’re Lord Riddle?”

The man’s thin, pale lips pulled up into a smile which revealed only the barest trace of teeth. “Indeed.” He said softly, not releasing his grip. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been staring at me.”

“I-I…” he felt his face deepen in color from merely red to scarlet. “I wouldn’t call it _staring_ , really. I just happened to look over and-.”

“Don’t lie, Harry.” Dear Lord, he even knew his first name! “I’ve been staring at you two, after all. I simply know how to be subtle enough that most wouldn’t notice.”

He was staring at him? He wasn’t anything important-sure he had the family name and fortune but that would mean nothing to a man like Riddle who already had enough money that he lived in a bloody _castle_ -nor was he particularly unique looking. There was nothing memorable or striking about him aside from the scare on his forehead he’d gotten falling down the stairs as a child.

“Do you think that I’d be paying you any attention if you ‘weren’t memorable’?” Had he said that out loud? He didn’t think so. Riddle’s gaze seemed almost able to drag the secrets free of his very soul.

A shudder or what might have been fear went through him as his parents’ warning and all of the strange rumors surrounding the man in question suddenly sprung to mind.

“We should speak alone, I think.” Riddle continued, looking almost criminally pleased by his blatant uncomfortable attraction towards him. He gestured towards the open doorway of a balcony located across the room from where they currently stood. “Accompany me outside?”

 _I shouldn’t be alone with him. I shouldn’t be alone with him. I shouldn’t be alone with him._ But the mantra of his rational mind rang in deaf ears and, as if by some strange compulsion, Harry nodded. “I’d love to, Lord Riddle.”

“Marvelous.”

After offering his arm to the younger man, the Baron strode across the filled ballroom and through the open doors out onto the balcony beyond. The soft light of the full moon and a pair of paper lanterns hung astride the doorway suffused the isolated space with a soft almost romantic light. A warm summer breeze scented by night blooming flowers blew passed them, lifting their hair and clothing around them.

                “Forgive me if I am being presumptuous by asking such a thing, but please be honest with me Harry. May I call you Harry?”

“Yeah, sure. I don’t mind.”

“Good.” The smile grew, stretching enough to crinkle at the corners of his eyes, though still he barely allowed any of his teeth to show. Strange, undoubtedly, but not quite a red flag. “Are you as attracted to me as I find myself to you?”

“I-.” As what the other man had said fully dawned on him Harry’s panic transformed into surprise. “You’ve been watching me?”

“For a number of years.” Riddle admitted, taking a step closer to him. “You are beautiful, Harry, and have been since you were very small. I could hardly _not_ notice. I would have approached your parents on the matter of a betrothal between us long ago were it not for the fact that they believe the lies about me which that so-called ‘Vampire Slayer’ Albus Dumbledore would spread about me.”

“You certainly seem to dislike him.”

“The man is a con, my dear. A fear mongerer backed by the church. Any enlightened man is well aware that things like Vampires do not exist.” The brunet replied tartly. “His family and mine have never gotten along, so I’m not surprised by his efforts at a smear campaign.”

He knew the man almost as well as the members of his own family, considered him a grandfather figure, and had difficulty imagining him capable of something so petty. Harry frowned.

“You’d really want to marry me, Lord Riddle?”

“Should you be willing, I don’t see any reason why I wouldn’t.”

“Aside from the fact that it would be the end of both our family lines?”

The Baron chuckled; the raven couldn’t help but conclude that it was a wholly pleasant sound. “One does not _need_ to be married to produce an Heir, that is merely what is proper: I care little for convention and the simple truth of matters is I’m just not oriented in a way that would allow me to ever love a woman.”

The honesty of the statement was obvious.

“If you do not wish for a full relationship with me, that is fine as well. You are the sole Heir to the Potter name and, unlike myself, still have living parents who no doubt expect you to continue it. I understand.” His hand gently clasped his chin, bringing Harry’s green gaze up to meet his own. “I would understand, even, if you would rather whatever if between us never leave this balcony. All that I ask is a taste.” His leather-gloved thumb gently traced his lip as he spoke, the feeling of its calm motion unreasonably pleasant as the Baron leaned closer. Cold breath fanning across his face. “Merely a taste of your sweet petal lips, and if you wish to walk away I will allow it.”

Those black eyes, now so very close to his own, were incredibly deep and unfathomably dark. Cold pools of night-drenched water. And he was falling into them. Falling until he could no longer remember why he’d been resisting in the first place.

“Kiss my then, Riddle.”

Triumphant, the Baron claimed his parted lips. Tongues rolling together and gliding over unnaturally sharp teeth. Gloved hands carding through wild raven hair and guiding his head to one side, the column of his throat gleaming in the pale moonlight.

Dazed, mind filled with a sudden pleasant fog, Harry barely registered the fact that he’d gone limp in the arms of the other man or that the Baron’s eyes had changed from black to red as he detached himself from his lips to trail smaller kisses over the curve of his jaw and down his neck. Cold tongue laving at his pulse point, softening the skin, and sharp fangs sinking deep into yielding flesh.

The raven moaned-half in pleasure and half in pain-as the Vampire attached himself to the side of his throat, taking deep pulls from his jugular vein. The quiet wet slurping sound of each greedy swallow barely detectable to his dying mind, ringing in his ears as the monster had his fill. Pulling back only when there was nothing left to consume and forcing a mixture of his own tainted blood and venom down the raven’s rapidly constricting throat. Tasting his last breath as his heart stopped beating.

Lifting the lifeless body of the young nobleman into his arms like a new bride the Baron looked down into the slack features of his face, watching a thin trickle of the blood meal that he’d fed him make its way down from the corner of his lips and along the curve of his jaw, fangs stained deep ruby in the dim glow of the lanterns and moon.

“Don’t fear, my darling. You’ll wake again soon,” he purred into the feathery raven hair, stepping through a hidden doorway and into the passageway beyond. Heading down it towards the windowless room, prepared in advance for precisely this purpose, and lying the static form atop the lavish bed. Running agile fingers through the soft ebon strands. “Sleep well, Harry.” The leather-clad pad of his thump traveled down the youth’s handsome features to once more trace the cupid’s bow of his now blue lips. “Sleep well, my Mate.”


End file.
